Spending Time
by NightsDawne
Summary: A one-off set right after Countrycide wherein Jack tries to get past the suit to see the real Ianto Jones. Not so much angst as emotional. Reviews begged for.


:Had a spot of writer's block on the current chapter of my Torchwood/Firefly X-over Serenity in Cardiff, so thought I'd dash off a one-off in the meantime just to keep the juices going. I wanted to explore some of Jack and Ianto's conflicted feelings at the beginning of the changes in their relationship while staying as true as possible to their complex characters. This one is set immediately following Countrycide. Has a few spoilers for Fragments. Disclaimer bidness, I don't own Torchwood or its characters, who belong to Russell T. Davies and the BBC.:

**My Torchwood fics**  
Deus Ex Machina (not yet published)  
Oberon's Wild Night  
Tripping the Rift  
Kyhl's Story  
Archives of the Time Agency  
Serenity In Cardiff

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"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Jack looked up at the youngest member of his team standing in the doorway of his office. "Ianto, come in. Close the door."

Ianto did as he was told. He generally did, to the point where Jack had taken for granted he knew the young Welshman, had taken the man himself for granted. Everyone had, but Jack was team leader, Jack had hired Ianto in the first place, and it should have been his responsibility to bring him into the team, to get to know what lay behind the suit before the incident with the cyberwoman Ianto had harbored in their basement.

"How are you feeling?" Jack winced at how rehearsed that sounded.

"Fine, sir. Owen cleared me to return to my duties." Ianto stared at the wall. "Nothing but a few bruises left."

"That's not what I meant, really, but I'm glad to hear it." Jack looked down at the form on his desk. It was left over from the 90's, back before he took over, and he'd never used one before. Not when he hired his team, not when they went through crisis events, although protocol dictated there should be a stack of them in every employee file by now. Protocol had always been against his style. He lifted his hand from the title. 'PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION' it read in black letters under the Torchwood logo. "This was your first field mission, and it was almost your last, so.."

"And I'm fine, sir. You saved the day." Ianto looked at his boss at last. Jack couldn't tell if the accusation he saw was really there or if it was all in his own mind that he read the look as saying it was his fault to begin with, that he should have kept Ianto with him rather than Gwen. Not that she had fared any better. She'd been shot, after all, but she hadn't been alone. Not like Ianto had after he bought Toshiko a chance to escape from the cannibals who'd captured the pair.

"So did you." Jack covered the title of the form again. "That was incredibly brave, fighting an armed man with your hands tied so Tosh could go for help."

"It seemed more effective than letting them slaughter us both without any resistance, sir. I'm sure anyone else in Torchwood would have managed to get themselves out as well, but that's why I make coffee and file papers."

"I think you did pretty good, actually. Not like it's the first time I've seen you in a fight, but it's high time everyone else on the team knew you have it in you."

"I see, they didn't know I could throw a punch after I decked you, did they?" Ianto's grey eyes flashed a momentary hint of challenge to them Jack hadn't had directed at him since that night. This was the Ianto who made him, if not afraid, at least uncertain, and he couldn't afford to let the younger man see it if he was to get past the wall between them, to truly make him part of the team.

"I'm sure they did, but nobody really wants to remember that night."

"I'm not so good at selective amnesia, sir. Exactly what parts should I forget?" Ianto leaned on his fists on the desk. "That my girlfriend killed two people and it was my fault? Maybe that she got killed, and that you were the one who ordered her death? Wait, maybe it's that I was killed, too, but I wasn't allowed to stay that way? Is that Torchwood policy, sir, to bring us back from the dead? Because someone forgot to mention it in my hire packet. Seems to have been allowed past Suzie, though."

"Suzie killed herself," said Jack quietly. "And she was a murderer."

"My hands weren't exactly clean at that moment, either."

"So if you want to compare yourself to her, are you're saying you're suicidal?" Jack lifted his chin as that one hit the young Welshman, making him step back from the desk again. "In the matter of a couple of weeks you lost someone you loved in a highly traumatic fashion, almost lost your job, and then got captured by cannibals. It wouldn't be unnatural to be depressed in those circumstances."

"I'm not depressed," he countered quickly. "Mourning is not the same as depression. I have been here on time, every day, without exception, and have performed every task required of me."

"What about after you leave here?"

"I go home."

Jack got up, walking around the desk to sit on the edge of it, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ianto, you said that night that nobody ever asked you about your life. I'm asking. Tell me. What do you do when you go home?"

Ianto shrugged, studying his shoes. "I eat, I sleep, I watch sport on telly if Scrum V is on. I go out occasionally."

"With who? With mates? Do you even have mates?"

"What sort of question is that, sir?" Ianto looked up. "Do I seem that socially incompetent to you? Do you actually think that because you, Tosh, and Owen are so wrapped up in work that you can't recognize the face of anyone outside the police department or the takeaway delivery industry that nobody else working for Torchwood can form friendships? I grew up in Cardiff. I went to school here. With all your research on me before my hire, surely you noticed that."

Jack nodded. "And you moved with your parents to Abergavenny when you were sixteen, then to London when you were eighteen. What about since you came back? Who do you hang out with? Your old school friends?"

Ianto sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Fine, I haven't spent too much time with them. Most of the ones haven't moved on already I don't have much in common with. Up until a couple of weeks ago I was busy with.. with Lisa anyway."

"I'm sure it's difficult finding new routines."

"I'm sorry, sir, is this a lecture or a counseling session? Because I don't see how you're qualified to do either when it comes to how to have a social life. Exactly what do you do on your off hours? Oh, right, you don't take off hours because someone always has to be ready. I wonder how it is you managed to pick up all those anecdotal boyfriends what with all your excursions into the scene."

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it, furrowing his brow as he looked at the corner of his desk. "We're not talking about me."

"I'm amazed to have gotten you off your favorite subject, then, sir."

Jack shot a glare from the corner of his eye at the younger man before taking a deep breath. Fighting with Owen or Gwen was easy, the rules were clear with those two. He knew just how to take charge with them, to control the conversation even if it made them all the more angry. They at least came at him head on, but with Ianto he seemed to find himself cornered before he even knew an argument was on. If he felt safe with his usual reaction of intimidation, he could probably have the upper hand in a minute, back the boy against the wall and make him regret ever questioning his boss, but he couldn't risk it, couldn't do anything that might make him retreat within his shell again, make him comfortable with lying to the team, with lying to Jack. "Fine, I haven't exactly had a boyfriend since I took over Torchwood Three. I'm a little busy. Part of the reason why I hired you."

"To be your boyfriend, sir? I really _do_ need to provide you with that sexual harassment handbook. Sex with the boss is definitely not one of my administrative duties. That's a stereotype with receptionists, you know."

"I meant so I could find more time to have a life, Ianto, and you know it." He fought the urge to make a flirtatious comment about how he certainly wouldn't mind having a more intimate relationship. He still couldn't be sure he could read Ianto's signals. He'd been wrong in his assumptions about him in every other way.

"Then I'm doing a poor job because you haven't gone out with anyone since I've been here. Unless you're shagging Owen and just managing to keep it well under wraps."

Jack swallowed, looking into those grey eyes, wanting to just blurt it out. _I've wanted you since the night we caught the pterodactyl together, Ianto. The night when you lay sprawled across me, suit trousers not enough to hide your hard-on, our lips inches from each other, your heart pounding as much as mine was. You pushed away before I could see where it would take us, didn't even look at me when I told you you had the job, you just walked out. But you showed up for work and I've been going crazy ever since, not knowing if I just imagined that longing from you because I wanted you so much myself._ "No, I'm not shagging Owen. Or Gwen. Or anyone else. Are you satisfied?"

"Yes, sir, it keeps me up at night worrying you're having it off with the entire staff."

"Damn it, Ianto." Jack clenched his hands on the edge of the desk, counting to ten in his head. "Look, can we get back to discussing how you're doing?"

"I told you I'm fine, sir."

"Then tell me who you go out with. You said you sometimes go out."

Ianto shifted his weight, his hands in his pockets. "I never said I went with anyone. I go to the cinema. I like films. Recently there was a series of classic film at the cinaplex near where I live, so the last film I saw was Casablanca. It was the third time I've seen it, and I still liked it. Had the same script and everything. I had a small popcorn with butter, a box of Skittles, and a large orange fizz. That enough detail to convince you?"

"I'm not a cop asking where you were on the night of the eleventh, Ianto. Is that all you ate for dinner?"

"Popcorn would count as a vegetable."

Jack snickered in spite of himself. "I'm just looking out for you. You have hypoglycemia. You're supposed to eat a balanced diet."

Ianto smiled, the first time Jack had seen that shy, reserved curl of the lips since Lisa's death. "I'm working on it, sir. I appreciate that you're concerned, really. It's touching, almost. I'm moved. Are you satisfied then, that I'm not on the verge of slitting my wrists or overdosing on aspirin?"

"Never even considered those as being your style, to be honest." Jack raised his chin. "But I'm not ready to clear you for field missions again until I'm convinced it's safe for you."

Ianto shook his head. "If you doubt my skills, sir, I can train more. I never got my combat rating in London, but I can learn what I need to learn here."

"I know, I'm confident you have what it takes if you get a little experience under your belt. That's not what I'm talking about, though. I'm worried because you don't fight back if it's your own neck on the line."

Ianto looked away quickly. "I'm sorry, sir, what?"

"You'd fight for anyone here, whether you like them or not. I don't question that for a second. Once they're safe, though, you don't have the incentive to fight any more, do you? I've seen it before, Ianto. More times than I can tell you about. Young men who go to war because they have a need to protect those they love, or because they have a sense of duty or honor, but they seem to forget that they're worth fighting for, too. I knew you wouldn't shoot us that night with Lisa. Why? Because you didn't think there was anyone left besides yourself to defend, and for whatever reason you don't see yourself as worthy of protection."

"What makes you think I just didn't want to kill any of you?"

"You wanted to kill me, I know that much." Jack waited for Ianto to look at him again. "It's okay. Even if you had, I'd forgive you."

"Now who sounds suicidal, sir?" Ianto's voice threatened to crack as he struggled to hold back the tears. Jack had to wonder just how long the pain had been building up in the young Welshman. Was it just since his girlfriend was shot down in front of him, or was it the trauma he'd suffered over a year before when he'd been one of only a handful of survivors of the cyberman attack that destroyed Torchwood Tower and threatened the entire human population at the Battle of Canary Wharf? On their second meeting Ianto had pleaded with him to help him deal with those memories and he had pushed him aside, had told him it wasn't his responsibility. Why did he think there had been anyone else who had taken it on, what made him assume Ianto had ever brought it up to anyone since? Was there even more pain behind that, the sort of events that made young people search out jobs with Torchwood in the first place, memories they hid from even themselves just so they could go on with their lives?

"I can't die, remember?" He stepped forward, putting his hand on Ianto's shoulder. "It's okay that you were angry. It's okay to feel things."

"Is it?" Ianto pushed Jack's hand off. "Are you asking me all these questions because you really give a shit, sir, or is it just so you don't have to feel guilty because you hired me in the first place, because somehow I became your responsibility when you didn't want it? You never even offered me retcon when you told me I couldn't join your team. You liked seeing me hurt because I was Torchwood One to you. I may as well have been the one who was tortured into betraying us. It might as well have been my hand that opened up the dimensional crack in the first place, right, sir? Hundreds of people died, people with names and faces and habits in the break room that I had the misfortune to know, and who did their jobs in a way you didn't approve of, so they deserved what they got, and I deserved to live through it and have to remember it. You hated me for even being a cog in the machine, for being a junior bloody researcher who didn't do anything more than hack computers and run errands for the people who made the policies, the ones who knew what was actually going on. I was alive and that was enough for you to want to punish me. You're so fucking magnanimous, sir. So ready to forgive, is it now? Do you really believe I'm worth protecting, or are you going to be just as relieved as I am when I get killed out there?!" He faltered, the pent up emotions twisting his features as he turned away, his shoulders shaking.

Jack wanted to comfort him, but his hands hung like useless weights at his sides. Ianto had scored high on the empathy portion of the employment exams, he knew that from the beginning, but he didn't know the young man had been so perceptive. No wonder he had called him a monster the night of Lisa's death. He couldn't protest it, either, couldn't defend himself from the accusation, because to a degree he didn't want to admit to himself, it was true. He'd made Ianto into an unspoken scapegoat for his anger at Torchwood One, had silently blamed him as if he represented the misguided fools who nearly destroyed the world and persecuted the one man who was capable of saving it. The reason he'd allowed Ianto to isolate himself and remain the ignored loner was that he didn't want to have to give up that resentment and forgive him for things he was never at fault for to begin with.

"I won't be relieved," he whispered. "Ianto, you're part of my team. You matter to me. I need you."

"I'm sure you could find someone qualified to fetch your coffee, detail the SUV, pick up your dry-cleaning. Not that they'd be so careful with your coat, probably not care if the cleaners lost buttons." Ianto pressed his sleeves to his face and leaned against the wall. If he hadn't been six feet tall Jack could have mistaken him for a child, a lonely and hurt schoolboy sobbing over a beating from a bully. "Might be harder to find someone handy with mutilating corpses for cover stories, but Owen would probably be fine at it."

"You're not that easy to replace." Jack stepped forward, cautious, hesitant. For the first time in a long time he was looking at someone who needed him and he wasn't sure he was up to the job. He was good at using people, often in ways that were beneficial to them both, but he always got something out of the bargain. Most other people he wouldn't bother with, even if they made amazing coffee and were so good looking he would sneak onto the camera feeds to watch them when he was sure nobody would catch him at it. The easiest thing to do would be to offer the retcon now. He could even consider it merciful. They could arrange for Ianto to be found wandering along a road, unable to remember years of his life. His parents would be notified once his identity was learned from his wallet's contents. They would hurry to take him in again, to nurture him back to health and happiness with their loving support. Within a few years he'd probably be working managing his father's shop or something, engaged to some lovely girl from a decent family and planning a normal, safe life that would end when he was old and retired, having seen his great-grandchildren born. Maybe it would be different than how Jack himself felt, knowing the Time Agency had taken away his memories as well, knowing he was missing two years of his past and hating them for robbing him of he knew not what. "I don't want another admin, Ianto. I want you." He put his hand on Ianto's back, half afraid he'd be pushed away again.

"Why?" It was so quiet, muffled into his jacket, that Jack almost didn't hear it, but at least Ianto hadn't moved away from him. Jack moved his hand up to the younger man's shoulder, turning him to face him. He gently took Ianto's hands, pulling them down from his face. The tortured expression he uncovered cut into his very soul, it seemed, but he didn't let go and Ianto didn't look away.

"Because I don't want to be a monster, and you're the only one who can save me. You're right, Ianto. I'm no hero. You're the only one who saw it and had the guts to tell me. You're the most courageous person on this team and I need you to keep me in line."

"Like you'd listen to a tea-boy anyway." Ianto sniffled, but he was starting to relax. Enough to give Jack a glimmer of hope, at least.

"I'd listen to you. I promise you I'll listen if you promise me you'll talk. Please, Ianto?"

Ianto searched his face. "I can't promise I'll say what you want to hear."

"I know. That's why I need you to say it."

Ianto nodded slowly. "You have a deal then, sir. You can let go of my hands."

Jack looked down, realizing he had wrapped his hands around the younger man's more intimately than was needed to restrain him, no longer holding his wrists but clasping his palms like a schoolboy suitor. "Oh, right. They're just so soft. Warm. Nice manicure." He cleared his throat, stepping back and letting go.

Ianto fixed his tie, then wiped his cheeks again, the flood of tears well under control once more. "I put lotion in the washrooms, sir. There's no reason you can't apply some after you wash your hands."

"That's what it's there for?" Jack raised a brow. "I thought you'd noticed the whole no-boyfriends thing and were being considerate."

"I don't consider that my business, sir. Although I'm sure that's all that Owen thinks it's for, too."

"Ianto, do me a favor? Can you call me Jack instead of sir? It, I dunno, gives the impression there's the slightest remote possibility of a chance we could someday be friends? As you pointed out, I don't have that many of them and I'd like to have at least one more."

Ianto nodded, turning for the door, resting his hand on the latch. "Will that be all... Jack?"

"I still have a question about this last mission." Jack slid his hands into his pockets and turned to lean his shoulder against the wall, watching the younger man.

"What is it?" Ianto looked at him from the side.

"When we were playing truth, when Gwen asked us all about our last snogs, why did you lie?"

Ianto let his hand slip from the door latch. "It's not like you told them anything. Why should I?"

"I didn't lie, I just deflected the inquiry is all. They chose not to pursue. You told them it was Lisa. Sounded to me like a calculated psychological hit to repay us for our part in it."

"Then you already know the answer, don't you." Ianto took a breath and let it out slowly. "It won't happen again. I know you did what you had to do, all of you."

"So if she asked again you'd tell her it was me?" Jack leaned forward, raising a brow.

"Jack, that wasn't a snog." Ianto faced him, crossing his arms. "I was dead, hence in no position to agree to it. You, on the other hand, were apparently having a fit of necrophilia, so I'd think you'd rather that little fetish wasn't exposed to everyone else."

"Are you saying I forced myself on you?"

"On my corpse, to put full detail to it. I consider it just a sentimental goodbye. Sure you did the same for Suzie, although without the.. coming back to life bit."

"So if I kissed you now you'd refuse it?" Jack tilted his head, flashing a subdued version of his charming smile. It didn't seem to have much effect on the other man.

"I'm not dead. What would be the point?"

"The point would be..." He sighed. Maybe he really had read it all wrong. Maybe Ianto was really as closed in his views of sexuality as the majority of people in this day and age. Maybe even if he was open-minded, he preferred women to an exclusive level. Maybe he was bisexual and just didn't want to complicate the workplace, or more inconceivable, he just didn't find Jack attractive. "Nevermind. You're one man I guess I'll never figure out, Ianto Jones. We're still friends, right?"

Ianto looked away, shaking his head. Jack felt another stab as he realized he might have lost what he did have, the banter of lightly rebuffed flirtation he'd always managed with Ianto, the surefire way to bring out that slight smile he found so irresistible. Before he could apologize, however, the younger man pressed up against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and kissing him with hunger that bordered on desperation. Jack grabbed Ianto's hips to keep from being knocked over by the passionate embrace, an ache spreading across his groin as he pulled their bodies together. Ianto made no effort to resist, grinding lightly against him so he felt the full length of his erection through the light wool of his trousers. He would be perfectly happy to die of suffocation before he'd break that kiss, but Ianto finally pulled his head back, gulping for air. "It's not.. harassment.. if I.. initiate it.." he panted.

"Glad we have that sorted, then," murmured Jack, sliding his hands fully around to Ianto's ass. "I really love this suit."

"I was hoping you'd want me to take it off, but oh well." Ianto started to push away from him with a mocking arch of his brow.

Jack growled softly and pulled him back in. "Give me ten minutes to get everyone else out of here. Meanwhile, I want you to go hang it up in my wardrobe so we don't mess it up. I'm hoping to harass every inch of you in every room I can catch you in." He stole one more kiss before letting Ianto go, then made it out the door and down the stairs to the floor of the hub at a dead run. He'd made love to at least seventeen species of alien and seven, possibly eight different sexes, but it took a human from twenty-first century Cardiff to make him feel this alive again. One of these days he'd have to stop and think about how that happened, but for now all that mattered was that Ianto had given him a reason to go on, and he was damned sure he'd do whatever it took to be the same for the young Welshman. Now all he needed was to spend the time, and he had plenty of that.

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**:Please review! I really do live for them! Thanks!:**


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